


My Dear (PTSD!Levi x Wife!Reader)

by HumanitysBiggestBrat



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, PTSD!Levi, Reader-Insert, Wife!Reader - Freeform, my dear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:49:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3475043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumanitysBiggestBrat/pseuds/HumanitysBiggestBrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A little One-shot that I concocted. May write more:) If yays have any suggestions for any, comment below and I'll do my best to write 'em.</p>
    </blockquote>





	My Dear (PTSD!Levi x Wife!Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> A little One-shot that I concocted. May write more:) If yays have any suggestions for any, comment below and I'll do my best to write 'em.

My dear, what is love?

What is life if love is not present?

How do you conduct yourself in a world with no means or indication of amorousness?

How is one supposed to obtain such a tangible, discernible object?

And what do you do once you’ve acquired such an object?

Some believe that love is deterrent, weak-willed.

My dear, love is not for the weak, for the ones who seek constant approval.

My dear, love stands for so much in the eyes of those who knows what it is like to love and to be loved.

Love is not fraudulent; love is not pain or sufferance. Love only means to provide one with a sense of purpose. A sense of knowing that there are people who care about you:

Your every flaw.

Your every scar.

Your every blemish.

Your every imperfection.

But those imperfections make you,

And you are perfect to me.

I see it now, even when you lay in your tangled mass of bed sheets.

Your features soften in sleep, peaceful.

Something I had longed to see on your face for months.

Your ebony hair like a halo around your head, resting softly on your pillow.

The gentle rise and fall of your scarred chest.

Your rhythmic breathing like a tide, pulling me to you. Longing to lie down next to you and have your warm arms encase my fragile body.

To kiss away whatever images play inside your eyelids when you close your eyes.

To put your frail mind at ease.

My dear, the world isn’t leaving you.

I’m not leaving you.

You watch as the world speeds by.

Hopeless. Stuck in your own realm of demons, your own private Hell.

I want to find you, to pull you back down from wherever your mind has taken you.

I miss you. I miss the tender warmth of your body and how easily it fit against mine.

I miss the delicate touch of your warm lips pressed against my own.

I miss the subtlety in your every movement.

I miss your quiet deliberations in the darkness of our bedroom.

And I know my dear, that you try, I see that every morning when I see your face.

You try to mask the endless torment I see in your grey eyes.

You try to pretend that every step you take isn’t like carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.

And I try to pretend like it isn’t killing me.

On silent feet, I glide over to our bed and ease my way into your world.

Almost immediately, our bed turns into a battle ground.

Your soft features warp into an expression of pain.

A sheen of perspiration appears on your clothed frame.

Soft whimpers escape your lips.

And your body contracts violently.

I pull you into my embrace and pretend like your fists’ beating on my chest doesn’t hurt.

Like your entire demeanor doesn’t hurt me.

Soothing words leave my mouth, a feeble attempt to keep your nightmares at bay.

After what seems like an eternity, your grey eyes flit open, water falling down your white face.

And my dear, I pull you tighter into my arms as you fall apart.

Just like the night before.

Because my dear, love isn’t something material.

Love isn’t trivial.

Love is finding your other half.

Love is finding your everything.

And you my dear, you are my everything.


End file.
